The Unspoken Law
by TiTivillus
Summary: <html><head></head>It was one thing for Castiel to try to set Dean straight, but it was entirely another to beat him into a senseless, bloody pulp. Tag to 5x18 'Point of no return' Hurt!Dean, Protective!Sam</html>


**Supernatural Fanfic**

**Title: **The Unspoken Law

**Summary: **_It was one thing for Castiel to try to set Dean straight, but it was entirely another to beat him into a senseless, bloody pulp. Tag to 5x18 'Point of no return' Hurt!Dean, Protective!Sam _

**Disclaimer: **Don't own the boys or anything related to the show.

**Warnings: **Rated K+ for bad language and violence.

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><p>Sam dipped the washcloth into a bowl with luke warm water before gently dabbing at Dean's bruised face. He had already cleaned the worst of the cuts, but blood still kept oozing from a particularly deep gash above his brother's left eyebrow, sending rivulets of dark red down his freckled cheeks.<p>

Dean looked like he'd been hit by a semi truck- broken and fragile beneath Sam's gentle hands and it was hard to believe that Cas was the one responsible for the poor state his brother was currently in.

Logically, Sam knew that he should be thankful for what Cas had done, because if their winged companion hadn't knocked Dean out, Sam would be cleaning a corpse right now. But there was something about letting _anybody_ get away with hurting Dean that didn't sit well with him.

It was an unspoken law- chisled in stone. You didn't touch one Winchester brother without having to explain yourself to the other. And you most certainly didn't get to beat one of them into a senseless pulp without having to face the consequences.

Sam clenched his jaw and dropped the bloodied rag back into the basin, watching it unfold in the reddish twirls of water. Then he got up from the edge of the cot in Bobby's bunker and placed a pillow beneath Dean's lolling head to prevent him from rolling around too much.

He gave the handcuffs on Dean's wrists a probing tug, slipping a finger beneath the metal to make sure they weren't cutting into his brother's skin.

If his finger lingered over Dean's pulse point for a moment longer than usually, there was nobody here to call him on it.

"I know it seems like we have already lost..." Sam whispered, lightly tangling his fingers with Dean's unresponsive ones. "But that's not true, okay? You can't give up on me now. I need you to back me up, Dean."

Sam's throat burned and he had to close his eyes for a second. "I just-...I need you, man."

The cardboard box with all of Dean's belongings was still upstairs, carefully stowed away in Bobby's living room until his brother was no longer on suicide watch.

But the pristine envelope he had found inside that box- the one without a name on it- was tucked away in Sam's shirt pocket, rubbing uncomfortably against his chest. There was a time and place for everything they said, but Sam honestly doubted that there would ever be a right time to read his brother's "farewell letter".

Or should he say suicide note?

Because that was what Dean had wanted to do. Commit suicide. Let Michael take control of his body. Give up and just... die.

There were no words to describe the pain Sam had felt upon realizing that his larger-than-life brother had finally abandoned all hope and resigned himself to make the ultimate sacrifice.

But Dean hadn't just given up on himself.

For the first time in his life, Dean had given up on Sam as well- had been ready to leave Sam behind as he took off to become Michael's meatsuit.

And that wasn't acceptable.

Sam sighed and shot his unconscious brother a last lingering look, face marred with fear and sadness, before he slowly pushed up from the threadbare mattress and left the room.

He shut the heavy steel door on his way out, knowing that a pair of handcuffs could never keep Dean from leaving this room, once he'd set his mind on escaping (even after Sam had made sure that there were no paperclips nearby).

The door closed with a rusty creak and Sam was assaulted by a onslaught of memories from a time not all too long ago, when their roles had been reversed and Sam had been the one locked inside Bobby's panic room. Even now, he could still taste the rough leather on his tongue, smell the heavy tang of sweat that permeated the stale air, and hear the accusatory voices of drug-induced visions in his mind.

Pressing his lips together, Sam took a calming breath, refusing to get lost in the black abyss of his darkest memories.

They had more important things to focus on right now. There was no time to delve into the past.

Heading upstairs, Sam found Bobby completely engulfed in one of his ancient books, desperately trying to find something useful on how to stop the apocalypse, while drinking himself into a desperate stupor. Sam was tempted to gulp a bottle of his own.

But there was something he needed to do first.

Dumping the basin with bloodied water on Bobby's kitchen table, Sam made his way to the living room where he caught sight of a dirty trench coat and a familiar mop of brown hair.

"Cas, you have a second?"

When the angel's face scrunched up in confusion, Sam merely rolled his eyes. "To talk...", he clarified in a clipped tone, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest.

Cas still had a dumbfounded look on his face and if Sam wasn't so pissed off, he might have found it funny. "I don't understand. I have many seconds-?"

"Look, I don't have time for this, Cas. I spent the last 30 minutes cleaning up blood from my brother's face. That's not usually something I take lightly, got it?"

Confusion still sparked in the angel's eyes and Sam had to pinch the back of his nose to keep from lashing out at him.

"Here's a well-meant advice for the future: you ever, and I mean _ever _hurt my brother like that again and it will be the last thing you do."

It wasn't the best threat he had ever uttered, but judging from the shocked look on Cas' face Sam was sure he had gotten the message across.

"Next time you need to knock him out like this- you use your goddamn' angel magic, you hear me?"

Cas hesitated for a second, then nodded.

Sam blinked and then the angel was gone, having once again disappeared into thin air.

"Protective much?" Bobby's gruff voice asked and Sam whirled around, meeting the older hunter's calculating gaze from where he lounged against the back rest of his wheel chair.

Sam only shrugged his shoulders, not even trying to deny it.

Dean had been there for him his whole life- he had been there for every skinned knee, every bad dream, every broken heart and every goddamned fight Sam ever had with their dad.

Dean was his shoulder to cry on, his crutch to rely on, his parent, his brother and his best friend.

And Sam wasn't about to let all of this go. Not by a long shot.

Michael would never even come close to Dean, if Sam had anything to say in the matter.

Because, _hell yeah_- he was protective when it came to Dean.

And he wasn't afraid to prove it either.

They were gonna get out of this mess.

And when the time was ready, they would leave this world together.

**The End.**

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><p><em>Wohoo, brief one-shot :) Recently re-watched the episode and thought to myself "Sam should have kicked Cas' ass for beating Dean up like that..." Oh well, this is what happens when my overactive imagination goes wild :P<br>Anyways, tell me what you thought, please :) I am open for other coda- suggestions to work on! ;) Ever thought of a particularly cool scene you would have wanted to see on the show?  
>Reviews are looove~<em>


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